O Conch,
You form of perfection
Who could imitate you?
Only inside us
There is an echo
Of that spiral form
Sounding forth that OM,
Winding through our lives
In this unwitting world
Which has forgotten
That note of quietude
Or the power of your song
Born in the dawn of creation when
Lord Siva
Gently pushed His Shakti forth
And in Her whirling dance
The Innocence was formed
On your long winding note.
We now can hear again
That pure untempered sound.
And can imagine how
When Durga raised you to Her lips
And blew divine breath through you
What dismay you brought Her foes then
In that swelling roar of sound.
Having no hollow within themselves
They could not bear it.
And now we widen chambers in our hearts
In stillness to receive and send
Your golden caul of sound
Throughout the universe
At perfect pitch of praise.
LV
(Photograph: lucylearns.com)